The Last Man
by cece1090
Summary: The Wizarding World gets thrown into upheaval after the return of James and Lily Potter. But not everything is as it seems, seeing as Lily had twins. But things become complicated when James and Lily find their children more dark than they wish. AU dark.
1. Chapter 1

So this is an experiment, an idea that won't leave my head! I won't continue if no one responds to it! So if you want an update, I've got to get reviews!

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><p>"<em>If you close your eyes, you see darkness. <em>

_But if you keep them closed long enough,_

_You'll see light"_

_-Effy Stonem_

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><p>Lilliana Moira Potter lay broken on the dirty, wooden floor. Blood poured profusely from her mouth and nose as it ran across the floorboards. Pain ran through every part of her body, penetrating her to the core, filling and spreading with each passing second. Her body shook violently, cold tremors going down her spine. Even as a child she knew there was something wrong. She was dying. And maybe it was better that way, death seemed like an enjoyable outlet. That maybe if she closed her eyes long enough, embraced the darkness rather than fear it, she would see the light.<p>

Filth.

Wicked.

Disgusting.

Evil.

The words poured maliciously from the headmaster's mouth. She was nothing, scum, weak and something that needed to be stamped out. She was a flaw in human nature, the child of Satan clothed in human skin. Something inside of her was different, a power of sorts. She could do things that other children couldn't do, make them hurt, make things disappear when she wanted. Something was wicked inside of her, and it was the noble duty of the headmaster to beat it out of her. But no amount of beatings and starvings would help, because even now, clothed in dirty rags, skin stained in blood, body broken, something powerful reverberated through her being, her very essence, and it frightened her. Maybe he was right; maybe she was nothing more than scum that needed to be destroyed.

Three days she had been locked in this cellar, three days with no light, no food, no water, wallowing in her own urine and feces. Tears streaked down her skin, her eyes surely bloodshot and skin bruised. Lilliana told herself every night, that if she was good enough her parents would come back to get her. But no one ever came, and it was because she was horrid. She was nothing but a horrid child and a freak. She knew they could never love her, she knew that was why they gave her up. Somehow they knew she was a bad seed, something off.

Pain was something familiar, almost calming and reassuring. Without pain the world didn't make sense. While she hated every kick and blow, she craved it, craved it to feel alive, to feel normal. She deserved this, she deserved everything she got. She even prayed at night for God to save her soul, to banish that which was evil that infected her being. She prayed every night, every single night with her rosary clutched between her fingers. She didn't know if there was a God, but she hoped there was, because only He could make right that which was wrong, only he could save her soul.

Suddenly the floor disappeared as a hand grabbed her tiny arm and hauled her roughly upwards. A hot breath was on her neck as she smelled the stench of the headmaster. He always smelled of something awful, but not that she could put a finger on it.

"Come on, you shithead," he spoke harshly as he dragged her up the stairs.

White light blinded her vision and she cried out as she covered her face. Discomfort engulfed her senses as it overtook her completely. As he continued to drag her down the hallway, she noticed the grimaces of the other children as they backed away. She once heard someone talk of the Scarlet Letter, and she wondered if this was what the poor lady felt like, desperate and yet isolated from the world because of her sin.

Finally they reached her room and he threw open the door. The headmaster then roughly shoved her into the wall, getting on his knees to come to her eye level. His overweight body pressed into her underfed one, his face too close to her own. She knew that while she was wicked and evil, there was something off about him as well. There was something disgusting about him.

"Now, are you ever going to take that which isn't yours ever again?" He hissed at her.

She quickly shook her head, terror flooding inside her.

"No no, I promise, I'll never take extra food again!" she said pleadingly. "I promise, I promise," she repeated over and over again.

He smiled sickly at her in return, relishing her fear.

"Good girl my little Lilly," he said in her ear before leaning in closer and licking her slowly up the side of her face.

She shuddered under his touch as he chuckled lowly.

"You're such a wicked little girl, my little Lilly," he said darkly looking into her eyes.

She just sobbed silently, praying soon he would just push her to the ground and leave her alone. Hitting and kicking, even when she was whipped was familiar, but this, every time he got the look in his eyes she knew he wanted something else. And it terrified her.

"Touch me," he commanded darkly but quietly.

She cried even more, knowing full well what he wanted. He had done this before.

"Please, please, please," she cried over and over again.

Why couldn't God just kill her already?

Suddenly his hand gripped her chin harshly as he forced her to look at him.

"Touch me, you worthless whore," he hissed before slapping her hard.

With shaky hands and tears dripping, she put her hands in his trousers going downward until she felt what he wanted her to touch.

"Yes," he groaned aloud as she caressed him.

With every stroke, she felt that power growing and gnawing, clawing her alive.

With every stroke she felt that wickedness consuming her.

With ever stroke she felt her innocence die away.

…

Somewhere under the floorboards, a soul, fragmented, torn and ripped heard everything taking place. The sixteen year old boy felt his magic whip dangerously around him with each groan the perverted bastard made. But he felt something else too, a different magic pulling and calling to him. That little girl was a witch, and her magic was wild and rampant. He had never felt such magic before, aside from Dumbledore, but something was different about hers. There was something darker, something much more sinister at the core.

Tom Riddle didn't believe in morality, only power. Right and wrong was merely nothing more than one's perception of reality. And while he would never assault a child sexually, a thought, a truly wicked and cruel thought entered his mind. The girl's magic was so dark no doubt due to years of abuse and survival, and moreover she was a Potter, bound to be powerful anyways. He could take that, take advantage of her power and drain her, getting free from the damned diary.

He could take everything from her and it would be the sweetest of revenge. The death of a Potter, a direct descent of Godric Gryffindor, to ensure life of the Heir of Slytherin. The Old Fool would burn with hatred and guilt for ever putting her in the orphanage to begin with.

Suddenly something happened, an explosion of magic, so raw and wild it made his head burn. Screaming in agony of such exposed magic, he fell to the floor writhing. Wave after wave hit him as he lost all sense of reality and suddenly something fell on his forehead, something sticky and wet. Slowly putting his fingers to feel the substance, he saw red dripping between them. Blood, a lot of blood, and magic too.

And suddenly his body was ripped away, spiraling to something unknown as he finally hit something hard. As his eyes opened, all he could see was blood. It was everywhere, running thickly against the wooden floors, all on the walls, even splattered on the ceiling. His eyes searched the room until they landed on a figure, a man grotesquely ripped open, from navel to chest, his intestines splayed out, and his organs spilling.

Then a sound was heard, a faint crying. Slowly turning around, he came face to face with the child. The child was a girl, and even smaller than he imagined, completely covered in blood. She looked around the age of six. Suddenly wonder and awe replaced his sinister idea of draining her magic. He would take her, train her and equip her to be his greatest weapon. The entire room was filled with her magic; it clawed at him, trying to attack. He assumed if he were human, his skin would be bleeding from the severe assault of her magic.

His eyes took her in fully, she was fair skinned with piercing green eyes, but her hair was the darkest shade of red, like a flowing Bordeaux wine, now covered also in the blood of her attacker. He form was quivering, her eyes never leaving the body she murdered with her magic. It was an accident, and if the ministry were to ever find out, they would immediately place her in a magical institution before sending her to Hogwarts, wiping her memory of the event to keep her mind pure and intact. But Tom wasn't going to let that happen, he wasn't going to allow them to take her away from him.

Finally her eyes snapped to his, but she didn't speak. Slowly he crawled his way to her, his body still shaking from her raw magic. As he reached her, he gently caressed her cheek and suddenly she fell into him, her body exhausted after murdering the worthless muggle. Her body shook with shock as he held her and gently spoke soft words into her ears.

"What's your name little one," he asked gently.

She just trembled in his arms.

"Lilliana," she replied weakly. "Are you going to call the police" she finally asked, refusing to look at his face. "I didn't mean to, I swear it!" She pleaded.

He then let her go temporarily to face her. His hands gently cupped her cheeks as he looked into her green eyes determinedly.

"Yes you did," he said softly but firmly.

Immediately she began to shake her head and started crying more.

"No I promise! It was an accident I swear!" She screamed hysterically.

He just gripped her face a little harder. They would begin here. Murder, a necessary means to an end. She had no reason to mourn the loss of such filthy scum, a worthless muggle, especially one who violated her no less.

"Yes, yes you did" he reinforced. "But that's okay," he began looking into her eyes. "Lilliana, there are some people who deserve to die, you killed a man who deserved this," he stated coldly. "You have nothing to feel sorry for, nothing at all." He finished firmly.

She just peered at him completely wide-eyed, almost as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"So," she fumbled slightly. "So you're not going to send me away," she said hopefully.

He just brought her into his arms immediately.

"I would never send you away," he stated and he meant it. She would never leave him, he would never let her.

She cried a little harder, much to his irritation, but refrained from saying anything.

"But I'm wicked," she sobbed. "I'm nothing but a wicked, disgusting little girl," she continued.

Immediate rage welled up inside of him at her words. That filthy muggle called her disgusting; she was superior to him in every way! His body, literally shaking with rage and hatred caused her to try to get away, but proved pointless as he refused to let her go.

"You are not wicked," he began. "Or disgusting do you understand me?" He asked harshly.

She nodded as she looked into his eyes, still frightened slightly by him.

"You can do things, things that other children can't do and that doesn't make you wicked," he said. "It makes you superior to them." He continued. "I'm like you, different and I can teach you how to control it, manipulate to your liking, so that no one can ever hurt you again." He finished darkly as he looked into her eyes.

As he looked at her, something shifted in the air. Her magic cracked and struck like lightning, and it was gloriously terrifying. Her magic was pulling to him, far deeper than anything he had ever experienced. He once read about the pull of magic, it usually meant two people where two halves of a whole. Their magic once combined could be endless, their power without restraint. Her magic recognized his very own, even though as a horcrux he couldn't perform.

"You can," she asked.

He smiled darkly at her then pointed to the floorboards.

"You see that floorboard slightly raised," he asked and she nodded he head. "There is a diary, a blank one. When it's safe, take a pen and write your name in it, I'll respond." He stated as he got up. "I have to go, but run to a teacher and state that you found him like this." He finished as walked over to the diary.

His body was going cold; he wasn't bonded enough with her to remain outside his home for too long. Actually the only reason he was able to leave at all was because the blood of murder ran down the pages. He was born of murder, and only murder could set him free.

"Wait!" she called out to him.

He turned around in response.

"What is your name," she asked.

He looked at her for a moment. Even now he could tell she would become quite beautiful one day.

"Tom, Tom Riddle, but you mustn't tell anyone about me. They wouldn't understand," He stated firmly to which she nodded.

As he reached closer to the book, he suddenly was pulled into it. The call of the diary overpowered everything. Suddenly he was back in the prefect's room. It looked exactly the same as it always had.

Some could say Tom Riddle was lonely, for he had Hogwarts all to himself, yet only he graced the halls. He was completely alone in the world, everything remaining as they were. Time did not exist, only days bleeding into other days. Not even the portraits talked. So he walked by the crackling fire and took a sip of hot tea, just like he always did. After all, it was always there, and always would be.

And maybe that was what he was.

Just always in a state of being.

…

In home not too far from Wool's Orphanage, in a little house on Privet Drive, a little six-year old boy was being locked in a cupboard under the stairs. Harry James Potter knew not of his power or his family, or even that there was another at the murder of the Potter home. He knew nothing of his twin sister and she nothing of him. It would be another five years before either one would know the truth.

And another ten years before Albus Dumbledore would have to face the tragedy he caused, and the repercussions of that choice. For James and Lily Potter were not dead, asleep, but not dead. And Albus would only wake them when the two twins came of age. Love and trust would not meet the Potter parents, for how could two children raised by hate ever love the very people who caused it?

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><p>So is it interesting? Reviews people!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! There is something I would like to quickly explain, because this fic is mainly about the return of James and Lily Potter, the chapters regarding Moira and Riddle will have time gaps. The storyline is just too complicated to spend her whole childhood on them and then return her parents. Also the story is canon just so you know. So it will be a little bit before the return of their parents, and I need to get the Harry and Moira's story out there before they meet their parents. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I had fun writing it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Six years later<p>

Lilliana Moira Potter dropped to her knees panting uncontrollably, her skin was still feeling the effects of the Cruciatus curse, her bones sore. It had felt as if she was being burnt alive while being stabbed multiple times everywhere, every nerve ending electrified, her throat raw from screaming. Her eyes were still wet from sobbing, but she didn't beg for her life this time, she didn't beg him to stop. She just screamed over and over again.

She was getting stronger and there was a sick satisfaction in that. The pain almost made her think straight, and through it she could practically see her headmaster squealing like a pig under her curse. Her mouth unfolded into a slight smirk as she continued to fantasize how she would keep him under, until he begged for his death, until the veins in eyes exploded, until his voice was too raw to scream, and then she with a smile on her face, would grant his wish.

And suddenly she was under it again, the fire licking her skin, her nerve endings protesting, the knives peeling her skin off little by little, she could practically feel the blood run from her mouth after biting her tongue. As the pain increased she started imagining it was her headmaster screaming, with every flame it was him being burnt alive, with ever piece of torn flesh it was his being ripped away, and his screams would only excite her more.

And suddenly her mouth opened, but no screams came forth; only laughter.

A cynical nearly insane laughter starting quiet and then building and building until her body was consumed with it, headmaster's body was writhing and convulsing under her touch and she was cackling like a madwoman. And then it stopped, and yet she continued to lie on the soft floor. She heard the patter of feet padding across the floor and soon a body lay down next to her.

A smile remained as her laughter died.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected" Tom Riddle spoke smoothly, his voice fused with mild curiosity.

She snorted slightly, still panting from his curse. It wasn't as if it didn't hurt anymore, but she found some kind of pleasure in the pain, some kind of power.

"Obviously," she snickered. "I just found having an imagination never hurt anyone," she finished before rolling over to her side, peering at his face.

His eyes looked at her, his expression unreadable. He was always unreadable, and sometimes she just wished she could climb into his mind to figure him out. He was no doubt the most handsome man she had ever known, his high cheek bones and curly black hair hung slightly over his eyes. He was her only true friend, the only one who knew everything single thing about her, the darkness dwelling inside her.

Yes she had other friends; being sorted into Slytherin had helped her immensely. Draco Malfoy was by far the closest friend she had there, but of course there was her estranged brother. Being brought up in the orphanage she had no knowledge of where she came from. And when Severus Snape came to tell her she was a witch, she found out about her twin. Of course she didn't meet him until after arriving to the Great Hall.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, her famous twin brother; the thought still was almost unreal. She knew copious amounts of magic, her knowledge even superseding that of the Granger girl. Of course she didn't act on it like the mudblood; she kept her intelligence to herself. It was quite obvious Professor Snape had taken an interest in her; even put it upon himself to be her Godfather. But he didn't like her brother; in fact, it appeared as though he couldn't stand him.

She didn't speak to Harry very often, the memory of meeting him was something she would never forget.

"_So it's true then, the famous Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts," Draco announced. _

_Lilliana stood slightly behind him, next to Blaise Zabini. Her brother looked nothing like her, except the eyes; apparently they both had gotten their mother's eyes. He was dark-headed with glasses, and his expression suspicious. _

"_This is Crabbe and Goyle," he continued pointing behind him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he said with a smirk. _

_Soon his smirk fell when he received a snort from a redheaded boy standing beside Potter. _

"_Think my names funny do you?" He asked coldly. "No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand-me-down robe," he said while pointing. "You must be a Weasly," he continued coldly before turning back to Potter. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter." He said with a sneer as he briefly glanced back at the redheaded boy. "You don't want to be making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there," he finished. _

_Potter just glanced quickly at his friend before putting his shoulders back and looking at Draco a bit more comfortably. _

"_I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself thank-you," he quipped back before his gaze fell on her. _

_She knew then he knew who she was, his gaze was so direct, piercing. She didn't speak a word at all, just merely stared back. He was brave she realized, either that or stupid to speak to a Malfoy that way. It was common knowledge of the Malfoy line, in fact Tom specifically told her to befriend him. But the fact that he stood up for the pathetic Weasly boy practically screamed stupidity._

_Soon Draco followed his gaze and his eyes too rested on her. _

"_Got yourself a girlfriend already Potter?" Draco sneered as he looked at her. _

_Suddenly she became angry and stepped closer to him, her stance confident._

"_Don't be disgusting," she replied sneered back earning a glare. "He's my brother," she continued not breaking her gaze. "Moira, Moira Potter," she stated with a smirk. _

_Draco looked shock for a second but when he went to reply, a professor interrupted them. _

That was the beginning of an amazing friendship, of course when the hat sorted her into Slytherin, it made it all the better. Of course everyone was shocked, a Potter in Slytherin? Well they never thought the day would come. But the hat warned her about Riddle, that he wasn't the person that he seemed. She merely scoffed and sat with her house, but the notion had already settled in, and it bothered her continuously.

"What are you thinking about?" Tom asked breaking her train of thought.

She quickly turned back towards him, smiling a little bit. He couldn't be all that bad. After all, he cared for her, protected her. No, that hat must have wrong.

"Nothing really important, just a little excited and disappointed about leaving tomorrow that's all," she stated with a sad smile.

It was true, she loved Hogwarts, but that also meant limited time with Tom. She gazed at her surroundings; it was the Slytherin common room. How he created it she wasn't sure, only that he could pull her through the book. He kept stating that soon he would be free from it entirely and she couldn't wait. She noticed he had grabbed her hand and softly kissed her wrist.

"Me too," he stated. "But I'm excited that you love it there so much," he finished with a smile.

She peered at him slightly. It wasn't in his nature to be so giving, not that she didn't love him, but Tom was a jealous person by nature; so to hear he was happy that she loved to be in place that restricted time with him was shocking.

"Why?" she asked bluntly.

He just shook his head.

"Moira, I want you to be happy; God knows you deserve it," he stated as she laid her head on his chest.

He began to play with long hair, before getting up and helping her as well.

"I'm tired, let's go to bed," he said warmly as he led her up the staircase.

The absence of life was everywhere she looked and for the first time she felt sympathy for him. There was no one there, none but him and her. And even that, she only came at night. The orphanage kept good tabs on her at all times, considering the horrid 'accident' to her previous headmaster. As they reached his bed, she collapsed onto it. Soon after, she felt him get in behind her.

She turned her body and snuggled into his chest, her eyelids falling heavier each moment he continued to caress her side. And she felt happy; she always felt the happiest when she slept like this. He kept the nightmares away.

"Tom," she whispered.

"Hmm," he responded.

And she felt stupid for asking, but she always felt this fear that he would one day leave her, leave her completely alone in the world.

"You're not going to leave me right?" she began softly. "Ever?"

The question hung in the air, and his silence nearly caused her panic. But soon she felt his breath in her ear, his arms tightening his grip on her body.

"I will _never_ leave you Moira," he said darkly.

And she prayed to whatever god there was it was true.

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><p>…<p>

"Honestly, did you see Potter's face," Draco stated with a laugh. "And to think he had to have a girl defend him, and a Weasly none the less," he continued.

Crabbe and Goyle nearly wet themselves with laughter it seemed, their faces red; and it wasn't even that funny. Moira just rolled her eyes. Boys were so dumb sometimes, but she didn't feel sorry for her brother, nor the Weasly girl. Potter had made his choice in friends, and it wasn't her fault that they were idiotic ones.

"Especially the mudblood," Draco continued.

Soon Blaise just looked up at Moira and quirked an eyebrow at her, obviously amused.

"Honestly you two," she spoke looking at Crabbe and Goyle. "You would laugh at anything, even if I called you both a pair of dwindling, idiotic, pathetic twots," she said with a sneer.

And of course they laughed.

"Wait wait," Crabbe suddenly spoke looking at Goyle then to Draco. "What's a twot?"

Moira rolled her eyes and Draco just looked at him as if he grown two heads, but then Goyle looked just as clueless as his idiot friend.

"Oh my god, you're kidding right?" Blaise suddenly spoke.

The two just looked at each other.

"What?" they exclaimed before Goyle continued. "Why can't you just tell us and be done with it?"

Draco opened his mouth but Moira quickly intervened. This was just too good to pass up.

"Why don't you ask Professor Snape," she said innocently.

Immediately Draco turned to her but soon a smirk unfolded on his mouth.

"Oh for christs sakes, it's something in his field of study," she continued before smirking again. "In fact, why don't you ask him how many he's tasted," she finished to which Blaise spluttered his drink out.

Draco looked like he was about to combust with laughter, but he held it together.

Soon they arrived to the Great Hall and ate the magnificent feast. Moira found keeping her glamour charm up was difficult, it was wandless magic so it drained her. But she couldn't go back to school with cuts on her arms, bloodshot eyes, and bruises littered all over her body. The orphanage wasn't the kindest place, and while she was never subjected to sexual abuse again, and she can still see the man covered in blood, didn't mean she wasn't subjected to other abuse. She was underfed and kicked around.

She even spent most nights in the cellar, where Riddle's book couldn't go with her. During those nights, the days and nights shifted together and the light was nearly unbearable. But the feast at Hogwarts was always amazing, and she tried hard not to shovel food in her mouth. After the feast ended they went to the common room. On her way out she was accidently shoved to the side.

"Hello," she hissed out realizing it was Ron Weasly.

He looked positively scared out of his mind, and the notion caused her to smirk slightly.

"Watch where you're going Weasly," she sneered to which she received a glare from the mudblood Granger.

Harry was also there, and he seemed quite uncomfortable.

"Sister," he said pointedly.

"Brother," she clipped before disappearing in the crowd.

But she couldn't ignore a pang in her chest. She wanted to get to know him, he was the only family she had left; but he was in Gryffindor and she in Slytherin. They didn't belong, and it was quite obvious that he was satisfied with that. It wasn't a mystery there was constant tension between them two.

But she quickly let the thought go as she went to the dungeons.

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><p>…<p>

"Open your books to page thirty-two, we will begin talking about the Knott potion," Snape said in his normally dramatic, monotone voice.

Moira sat behind Crabbe and Goyle, and next to Draco. She noticed to her right that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Lavendar Brown all sat together, the boys in front.

"Now who can tell me what the dangers concerning this particular potion," Snape began, and instantly Granger's hand shot up.

Snape continuously looked around the room.

"No one?" he said conveniently ignoring the mudblood.

Finally after Granger just looked like she was about to combust, she spoke out of turn.

"Professor please," she started exasperatedly. "The Knott potion is dangerous because it can make you see your deepest fear, like a boggart, but unlike the latter, when consumed it actually takes you there. Like a hallucination," she finished with an exhale.

"Like the fact you're secretly a boy," Goyle sneered, to which the whole Slytherin side erupted into laughter, even including a few Gryffindor.

For once Granger didn't have a reply, just sunk down in her seat further, her eyes watering slightly. It was utterly pathetic, it was just a joke. Moira knew she would never cry in front of anyone, especially someone like the likes of Crabbe and Goyle.

"Why don't you just shut up you idiot," Ron said immediately.

"Granger, ten points for speaking out of turn, Ron another five for doing the same," Snape began.

Then Ron got really red, angry at the obvious favoritism.

"But, but," he sputtered. "You heard what the bloody git said!" He yelled standing up and pointing at Goyle.

"Another ten points for inappropriate language," Snape continued, seemingly unfazed. "Care to continue Weasly?"

Harry then muttered something to Ron and pulled him down. Moira then kicked the back of Goyle's desk slightly. Immediately he turned around. It wasn't as if she cared about the mudblood, but Goyle was an idiot, and he had this moment coming.

"Ask him," she mouthed.

Goyle just looked at her confused and finally she mouthed twot. He then caught on and smiled really big.

"Professor," he started.

"Oh dear god, you told him to ask now!" Draco whispered enthusiastically.

She just nodded.

"Just wait, this is going to be epic," she spoke with a smirk.

"I was wondering," he started slowly to which Snape just stared at him with an annoyed expression on his face. "What is a twot?" He asked to which Snape suddenly narrowed his eyes and the whole class got really quiet. "And how many have you tasted?"

The class then erupted into a roar of laughter, including Harry and Ron. Goyle just sat there completely confused and suddenly Snape's face when from shock to sheer fury.

"Excuse me?" He hissed and Goyle's face went completely white.

"Well I just heard it was in your field of study!" Goyle gushed out trying to remedy the situation.

Moira nearly fell over, it was just too easy. Snape's face contorted into rage as he stalked right up to Goyle and slammed his fist down on the desk.

"Fifty points from Slytherin and detention for the next three months," he said completely enraged.

Goyle just sat there in total shock before turning back towards Moira. Draco was practically rolling on the floor with laughter.

"You you!" He stuttered angry for being manipulated.

"Get out of my classroom before I hex you to Azkaban Mr. Goyle," Snape roared. "Now!"

Goyle practically flew out of chair, knocking things over and stumbling his way out of the room. The room was still laughing after he left, and Moira glanced to her brother. He gave her a smile that silently spoke thanks, and she smirked in return. She then decided to dig into her bag to write to Tom about it, but to her horror she couldn't find it.

Tom Riddle's diary was missing.

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><p>…<p>

Ginny Weasly looked at the blank book with a confused expression. She didn't know what to make of it, finally she wrote in it. She wasn't expecting much, but decided it wouldn't hurt.

_**Hello **_

And just as she expected, nothing happened. Slumping in her chair with defeat, she exhaled loudly. What was the point of having found this in her school book tin if it was blank? It was completely useless. But then something caught her eye, black ink becoming more apparent.

_**Hello Ginny**_

Her eyes widened in shock, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

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><p>Well that was certainly interesting! Please review! Next chapter will be more of Harry.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it took me a while to update, but hopefully this chapter is worth it. Also, you might notice I'm going through the years swiftly, because there's some backing to this story that needs to happen before James and Lily re-appear. Anyways, so I hope no one's too upset. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

Questions: About the relationship between Harry and Moira. Yes, Harry was quite and is lonely at the Dursley's, but he didn't even know about his sister till right before going to Hogwarts. The two didn't really have a chance to connect before the sorting happened, and when they got divided into opposing houses that kind of cemented their estrangement. But their relationship will progressively get better. They both are untrusting by nature, and with Moira being in Slytherin that makes it even harder. Moira has grown up with ideals very much in common with most pure-bloods, due to Riddle's teachings. But because both of them have both come from similar circumstances, that will be a basis for their relationship, but it needs to happen realistically. Hopefully that answers your questions about where their relationship is concerned.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Moira poked lazily at her food, lately things had transgressed from annoying to just plain strange. Riddle's diary still remained unknown and the notion had her stomach in knots; she didn't lose it, no she regarded Riddle with much more care and respect to do something so foolhardy and reckless. No, the diary was stolen from her, and of course seeing the blood on the wall 'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the Heir beware' sent shivers down her spine and a burning rage of jealousy. Obviously whoever stole it had latched itself to <em>her <em>Riddle, and to make matters worse was that he didn't even seem to mind.

Moira," Malfoy's harsh voice abruptly pulled her from her thoughts.

He was eyeing her with a curious expression and a twinge of irritation. Draco wasn't accustomed to being ignored, he was practically the King of Hogwarts, aside from her hero-complex brother Harry of course, regarding Draco, people either people wanted to be him or hated him. Personally Moira wanted neither, Malfoy was practically her brother and his intimidation skills and tactics never worked on her.

"What?" she hissed in response.

She noticed with great satisfaction that he shrunk back in his seat slightly.

"Well someone's in a rather foul mood," he stated before a smirk settled on his lips. "What? Did Weasle boy turn you down again?"

His smirk was so blastingly infuriating, and she wanted nothing more than to curse it clean off his face. Actually she knew a number of non-verbal spells that would do the job adequately, but she wasn't too keen on being sent to Azkaban so soon. But she really wasn't in the mood for him.

"Shut up you prick," she stated before swiftly kicking him hard in shin.

"Ow!" He yelped loudly to which the table erupted into roars of laughter.

It quickly died down after they efficiently received a death glare from him. His steely grey eyes became ice cold as he regained control over his 'friends.' Moira nearly snorted at the thought of 'friends,' aside from her herself, he didn't have any true friends. The Malfoy's believed in two things, Allies and Power, much like Riddle himself; and maybe that's why they were friends, they understood each other.

"Oh here comes Potter and his mudblood girlfriend," Draco suddenly sneered.

Quickly Moira looked up, and sure enough, Harry and Hermione were walking to their table. Ginny Weasly looked up briefly ad suddenly blushed three shades of crimson before hurrying out of the room. It was quite obvious Harry had something to her. It was no surprise of her reaction, everyone knew of her pathetic crush on Harry. Moira though didn't have the slightest clue what she saw in her brother, he was just a waste of talent. The boy was a Parselmouth but housed in Gryffindor for Christ's sake! Moira knew he wanted to be just like James, their father and apparent war hero and martyr, and he was in Gryffindor just like their mudblood mother Lily. She shuddered inwardly at the thought of dirty blood. She hated that she had a weakness that she couldn't fix, she was a halfblood and there wasn't a thing to be done about it. She hated how her brother practically worshipped their parents, acted as if they were gods of sorts, she had no desire to live up to their standards, they were dead and left her to rot for it.

It was Riddle who found her, gave her life and purpose, taught her control and power. Why she was well beyond her peers here already, to be honest she was just plain bored. Already she was fervently perfecting her wandless magic and working on advance spells. She exceeded the Granger mudblood, but learned not to flaunt her skills, rather put them to use only on paper or example. Her Professors knew of her intelligence and praised her endlessly; even Professor Snape had taken a liking to her. There was only one Professor who didn't, who always looked at her with those piercing grey eyes, as if he could see right through her façade. Headmaster Dumbledore had an annoying knack of seeing her for exactly what she was.

But Riddle was always there reminding her that he was nothing but a meddlesome, old fool who was an embarrassment to the Wizarding World. Riddle had this way of making her feel beautiful, worthy, and special. Now the memories only added to her bitterness, for seven months his diary had been missing and now he had found someone better, someone worthy of his time. This shouldn't surprise her and certainly shouldn't hurt nearly as much as it did. What was she worth anyways? Why should she have ever been so stupid to believe and hope that he could ever see anything of value, of true worth in her?

_My little Lilliana whore. _

Her dead headmaster's voice whispered in her head, that thick rough voice filling the spaces till the only thing she could hear was him.

_My little Lilliana whore._

She bit her tongue harshly to keep from groaning aloud. His phantom hands descended down her face, caressing her cheek, and slowly down her neck. She could still feel his hot breath on her skin, and the smell of whiskey on his mouth. His chapped lips pressed disgusting on her mouth and moving ever so slowly to pulse of her neck where it was brutally sucking the skin there.

_My little Lilliana whore._

She feel the silent scream building in her throat as his hands descended downward, down, down, down to that place where only pain and humiliation radiated. His rough voice cackled highly in her head as he mocked her weakness, her pain. She bit her tongue even harder to suppress the oncoming scream, and ignored the metallic fluid running down her throat, that if she could just focus on the pain enough, soon the voice would just disappear altogether.

Images of her on the floor writhing in pain, the cruciatis curse, coursing through her veins, the white-hot pain frayed on her nerve endings, the fire burning and scorching her flesh, the knives stabbing and peeling skin and ripping organs overwhelmed her. The sensation was almost euphoric, as if every limb was being burned and ripped away, like her organs were being spilled apart and suddenly the voice only became a distant whisper to nothing, as if it had never happened to begin with.

Suddenly she felt a sharp sting radiating from her cheek, a real sting not just a phantom one. Opening her eyes she found Malfoy nearly halfway over the table, his right hand still slightly raised, and his eyes filled with worry and deep concern. The entire table had gone quiet and looked upon her with their wide eyes and judgmental glances. She swallowed thickly, panic overtaking her senses. She needed out, a place to get control over herself. Hastily she stood, grabbing her book bag and stalked out of the door in the Great Hall.

"Moira," Malfoy called out after her.

She ignored the voice and all but ran out the door, leaving everyone nearly gaped mouth.

…

Harry peered down the dark, stone hall. The Chamber of Secrets certainly was something most frighteningly to behold. Suddenly a small figure at the end of the hall caught his attention. His eyes adjusted slightly and realized it was a girl. He gasped aloud as he body lay motionless on the cold, damp stone floor. He knew who it was without having to see her properly.

"Ginny!" I yelled as he ran as fast as he could to her.

As he reached closer, he feels to his knees and slid in closer to her. Her eyes were closed, and her skin deathly pale. Touching her hands he found them ice-cold, in fact all of her skin was the same icy temperature.

"Oh Ginny, please don't be dead," he whispered as he held her in his arms.

He didn't know the girl that well, only a little but seeing her like this; it was just too much to bear. She was his best friend's sister and seemed like a nice girl. Clutching her in his arms, he looked behind him to the end of the hall. Maybe Ron would be almost done dealing with the falling rocks. He wanted to get out of the Chamber as quickly as possible, as much fun as fighting the Basilisk sounded, he would rather not.

"She won't wake," a silky voice whispered.

Harry whipped his head around and looked at the familiar face of Tom Riddle, the boy from the diary. Confusion swept through him, he hadn't the slightest clue how the boy could be here.

"Tom?" Harry asked looking at the boy, to which he received a curt nod.

But despite his curiosity and confusion the boy was older, looked like a sixth year, and maybe he could help. Harry decided he would worry about the details later, after Ginny was okay.

"You have to help me," Harry began frantically getting to a standing position. "What do you mean she won't wake?" He stated.

Suddenly an eerie feeling began to unfold in him and he found himself reaching for his wand. But to his surprise it wasn't there, snapping his head back to Tom, Harry found his wand being twirled in the hands of Tom Riddle himself.

"Tom, give me my wand," he stated slowly holding his hand out.

The boy simply ignored him and walked by Harry before turning around to face him again.

"Yes, poor little Ginny told me a great deal about her world" he began with a sneer. "You see as poor little Ginny grows colder and weaker, I become stronger," he finished with a triumphant smirk on his face.

Harry just stood absolutely dumbfounded, unable to speak a word. Suddenly everything was becoming crystal clear to him. Tom was killing her, and he hadn't the slightest clue on how to stop it.

"Funny, the damage a silly little book can do, especially in the hands of a silly little girl," he finished as his smirk broadened in size.

Slowly Harry snapped out his daze and anger began to overtake his senses. He wasn't going to just let Riddle kill Ginny without a fight! Straightening his posture he glared at Riddle, a metallic taste flooded through his mouth at the sight of his triumphant smirk.

"You framed that man for something he didn't do and you knew it," Harry spat out.

Riddle merely laughed.

"You mean that old, filthy half-giant," he mocked. "What matters about the disgusting hybrid anyhow?"

Rage shook through Harry at his words.

"Hagrid was my friend, and you framed him" Harry said through clenched teeth.

Riddle nearly snickered in return.

"Yes, he seemed to be quite popular with the professors too, especially to the meddlesome, old fool Dumbledore," Riddle sneered.

Suddenly Harry felt a sort of satisfaction in the pit of his stomach.

"I bet he saw right though you," he responded with a slight smirk of his one.

Suddenly Riddle's smirk was gone, and instead rage was burning in his eyes as he clutched Harry's wand tightly in his hands.

"Well he certainly kept an annoyingly close eye on me afterwards," he spat before his expressionless mask slid back on. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school so I decided to leave behind a Diary, preserving by 16-year old self in its pages so that one day, I would be able to lead another to finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work," he finished with a gleam in his eyes.

The air became tight again as Harry stood motionless in front of Riddle.

"But killing mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore, for many months my new target has been you," he stated with smile that nearly seemed insane and Harry felt himself stiffen. "How is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent was able to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?" He finished coldly.

Harry stumbled back slightly; confusion and rage were beginning to melt into each other. He noticed Ginny's complexion increasingly getting worse, and knew he didn't have much time. The only hope he had was hopefully placating this madman.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" He called out. "Voldemort was after your time," he stated.

Suddenly a wicked gleam radiated from Riddle's eyes and he flashed a smile dangerously while taking a step closer to Harry.

"Voldemort is my past, present and future," he enunciated.

Suddenly the Chamber seemed to shrink and the air became thin, as Harry blanched at his words.

"You, you're the Heir of Slytherin, you're Voldemort," he stated coolly despite the icy choke that seemed to overtake his body.

Riddle then turned around briskly.

"Surely you didn't think I'd keep my filthy, Muggle father's name did you? No so I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I became the greatest sorcerer in the world!" He exclaimed.

"Dumbledore is the greatest sorcerer in the world," Harry yelled back.

Rage and fear were shaking inside of him as he faced off with this younger version of the sick bastard who murdered his and his sister's parents.

"Dumbledore has been driven out of this castle by the very mere memory of me!" Riddle exclaimed in a frenzy.

Suddenly Fawkes came swooping down and dropped the Sorting Hat on the damp floor, to which Riddle chuckled darkly.

"So this is what Dumbledore sends his mighty Champion," he sneered. "Let's see how the Basilisk stands against a withered old hat," he stated before turning towards the large chamber and held out his hand.

"_Come, come and kill him, come and kill the man who dares stand against your Master," _Riddle hissed in parseltongue.

Harry stumbled back; he knew this was bad, like really bad. He couldn't look the beast in the eye. His only hope was to somehow escape and get a teacher to help with Ginny. There was no way and he could save the both of them and himself at the same time, especially with Voldemort and his blasted Basilisk thrown into the mix.

"Parseltongue won't save you now Potter," Riddle called and Harry's retreating form. "The beast only listens to me."

Harry found his feet running behind one of the statues. Suddenly he heard breathing, very shallow breathing from across his statue. Slowly looking beyond the statue he found the snake being attacked by Fawkes, to which he took the opportunity to run towards the breathing.

"NO!" Riddle screamed in rage.

Soon enough he found himself in front of none other but his estranged sister.

"Moira," he whispered.

Her face was expressionless; her face paled slightly but her eyes, there was so much emotion in those green eyes. She wore the pain of betrayal most deep in those piercing eyes of hers.

"Dumbledore's bird might have blinded the mighty Basilisk, but he can still smell you!" Riddle exclaimed coldly.

Suddenly Harry turned back to Moira, eyeing her with concern. She shouldn't have been down here. How had she gotten down her period?

"Moira, try to find an escape route, get a teacher and tell Voldemort is down here with Ginny and me," he whispered lowly.

She shook her head firmly, stubbornness heavily on her features.

"No, I will not leave you down here to die," she whispered back.

Harry nearly wanted to smack some sense into her.

"This isn't your battle, Voldemort wants me dead, but if you stay there's a huge chance we'll both be dead," he stated firmly.

She merely looked at him challengingly.

"Just because you have a fucking hero-complex doesn't mean I'm just going to let you get yourself killed for it," she snapped in return. "Don't be such a moron brother," she finished icily.

Surprise filled him at her comment and slight irritation as well, but he could see the concern in her eyes. Never before had anyone looked at him like that, with that kind of care and something shifted inside of him. He then grabbed her face and looked pointing in her eyes.

"You have to go, there's no reason why both of us needs to die," he stated.

Suddenly a force so strong broke through the statue and sent him flying backwards. He landed painfully on his back but ignored it.

"_kill kill kill" _

The basilisk hissed and suddenly Moira looked into Harry's with recognition. She had understood the snake! She was a parselmouth as well! But then the snake reeled back her mouth opening revealing her huge fangs.

"Moira run!" He screamed as he turned and fled to the corridors.

…

Moira lay painfully on the stone floor; everything was too fucked up to even make sense of. Tears threatened to spill out, but she kept her resolve strong. She knew Riddle was somewhat sadistic, but this? No, even this was too much for her! Everything had been a lie, and it was all for nothing! Disgust welled up inside her as bitter memories began to flood through her brain.

"Moira run!" Harry scream awakened her and suddenly she found herself rolling swiftly on her stomach.

Ginny Weasly's body lay motionless on the floor. The girl looked dead, her wet copper hair fanned out around her, water soaking into her skin. Suddenly something obstructed her vision of the girl, and she realized it was Tom. Looking at his black shoes, she slowly looked up past his trousers and to his face which was etched with shock.

_Is that a lie too? _

The thought cackled at her wickedly, as she no longer knew what was up or down anymore. He was such a brilliant actor, could make you feel anything, and yet she no longer knew what was real and what wasn't anymore. In actuality, she didn't know anything about him, not really.

Then ever so swiftly he fell to his knees and grabbed both sides of her face, looking at her like he had been in the desert for years and she the only source of water he had. His eyes were wide and his hands her slightly shaking and it felt so… right. Pain erupted in her chest at his touch, how she longed to be with him, for him to grab her and tell her he would never put her through that kind of hell again, that he would never leave her again.

"My god Moira," he whispered as he then let go of her face only to grab under her arms and hold her close to him.

Something broke inside her and she cried, cried out of the misery he put her through the past seven months. She grabbed the front of his robes, fisting it into her hands as she sobbed hysterically in his arms. He held her so close, so tightly. But then something did catch the corner of her eye. Ginny Weasly's dead-like body still lay on the floor, and suddenly it was as if a boulder was dropped on her chest.

His expression was so cold, so inhumane it was frightening. Only at rare times had she ever seen him like that, but they towards people who deserved it! Ginny was innocent, what could she have possibly done to deserve this? The aching pain morphed into anger at his words. He was Voldemort. He killed her parents. Everything that went wrong at that fucking orphanage was _his _fault! Suddenly her fisted hands began to beat his chest harshly as a scream began to claw at her throat.

She felt him stiffen slight, but he then took one hand and clutched the back of her hand, bringing her closer to him. He was everywhere, all she could feel, all she could see, everything was him! She couldn't escape him!

Suddenly she panicked, because she had to be away from him. Wildly she began trying to tear herself away from him, her long dark, red hair came halfway undone from the loose bun it was held in as she tried desperately to get away, screaming now.

"Moira stop it," Riddle stated softly as he tried to get her to calm down.

She merely struggled even more so, screaming loudly, a sound so inhumane it hardly registered that it was coming from her own mouth.

"Let me go! Let me go," she screamed as he finally obtained a firm grasp on her upper arms.

"Stop it," he growled out, his expression icy and angry at her refusal of him.

She was halfway torn, she wanted to grasp a hold of him and never let him go and yet she wanted to kill him all the same. Finally she wrenched herself away stumbling backward before scrambling up to a standing position.

"Stay away from me," she screamed with her wand pointing to his chest.

He just eyed her with controlled rage as he slowly began walking to her. She backed in response, her feet hitting Ginny Weasly. The notion caused a whole new onslaught of emotions and rage to overtake her.

She hated him.

She hated him.

She _**HATED **_him.

But she loved him.

"I use to think you were like me," she started hoarsely. "That you were attracted to the dark arts, attracted to power," she continued still slightly sobbing. "But I'm nothing like you," she finally spit out. "I look at you now, and I don't even know you!" She said, her voice breaking before looking down at the girl's body. "Why? Why kill her so ruthlessly?"

The question hung in the air and suddenly Riddle was in front of her and on his knees. His expression was one of begging, but his eyes were still hard.

"I did it for you," he stated darkly to her horror. "Her death is a means for me to be out of that wretched diary, a way to be with you, to take care of you," he finished. "I did it for you," he repeated with a cold glint in his eyes.

Suddenly her brother was screaming. She swirled around and saw her brother standing on the stone, with the sword of Gryffindor piercing into the mouth of the Basilisk, with her fang deeply embedded in his arm. Riddle suddenly stood up and screamed in rage at the death of his snake.

"You may have killed the Basilisk, but her venom still runs in your veins," he stated coldly.

Moira back up as his tone sent shivers down her spine. No, she didn't know this man at all. This man looked like her Tom, had his blue eyes, curly black hair but instead was this psychotic madman.

"What are you doing?" His voice then turned a little shaky, and Moira watched her brother turn to him with a glare before gripping the fang and pulling it out his arm.

Riddle stood motionless, and then Harry raised the fang and suddenly Riddle understood.

"NO!" He screamed as Harry pierced the diary with the fang, causing a bright light to erupt from his body.

Moira watched in horror as his body began to slowly erupt and suddenly she ran to him screaming as he was being destroyed.

"For you, it was all for you," he whispered before suddenly a bright light engulfed him and exploded till there was nothing.

His diary lay on the floor, ink flowing out the pages, his very blood and Moira felt as if part of her had died with him.

Silence overtook then before Ginny suddenly abruptly awoke and sat up. She looked at him and then his arm.

"You're hurt," she whispered as he smiled sadly to her.

But then Fawkes soon swept in and slowly a tears fell onto the wound, healing it. Moira knew Fawkes would take them up through the Chamber, but she had another way out.

"Go on Harry," she stated quietly.

He looked at her sympathetically.

"I'm sorry," he stated obviously referring to what he witnessed that had transpired between Riddle and herself.

He didn't say much more, nothing else needed to be said in the matter.

"The diary isn't completely destroyed, we need to finish it," he spoke lowly.

Moira felt her stomach go in knots. He was right, Voldemort needed to be destroyed, not matter the cost.

"Go, I'll do it" she stated to which he merely looked at her with concern. "Brother, he lied to me for years, slaughtered our parents and attempted to drain Ginny Weasly's life slowly from her body, there is no danger. I'll get it done," she finished coldly.

"Ok," he replied weakly before turning back to Ginny and helping her up.

With one last glance he looked back at Moira before leaving with Ginny. Moira merely turned back to the damaged diary and the fang lying on the floor. He was right, she knew he was right and yet it was just so fucking hard. Slowly crawling her way towards the fang and book, she gripped the fang in her hand and raised it above the book.

Years of lies swarmed its way into her head, memories attacking. Finally she screamed and through the fang to the side before leaning down close to the diary.

"Why!" She screamed hoping he could hear her, hoping he could hear her agony. "How could you fucking do this to me!" She screamed again, this time pounding the book with her fists.

Finally she just started sobbing; all the pain began to fill the spaces in her body, the feelings of loss overtaking her. He was everything to her, all she truly had in the world and he to go and ruin it! Tears poured down her cheeks, her body shaking violently. She just couldn't do it, couldn't destroy him; for it would destroy her as well.

And suddenly she stopped, stopped crying, shaking and everything. She stood and picked up the diary and started stalking off towards the room of requirement. She frequently went there to spend her time with Riddle since no one could interfere. But as she reached the room and quietly entered it, she found the entire room filled with objects, things to be hidden. And that's what she would do with Riddle.

She went to the middle of the room, and hid the diary in a dusty old cabinet. As she held the door open, she looked at the diary, at Tom himself.

"Goodbye Tom," she whispered before closing it.

As she turned her back to the cabinet, she straightened her shoulders, cleaned her face and made her presently, because Moira Potter wasn't weak. Moira Potter could do anything. Moira Potter always came out on top.

And just like that, she walked away from the cabinet; her back turned on Riddle and left the room.

And didn't look back.

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><p>Please review!<p> 


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